Endings and Beginnings Alistiar and Anora
by Zelda Silver
Summary: Anora is still a "guest" in the Royal Palace. After touring the devastation left by the Blight, Alistair has returned to begin the task of governing.
1. Chapter 1

**Endings and Beginnings**

An Alistair and Anora Romance based on the characters in Biware's Dragon Age

**Chapter 1 **

Alistair inhaled deeply as he approached the door. He had been dreading this moment, but he wanted to honor Danielle's final request. Danielle, the beautiful, talented Mage, the remarkable and courageous Grey Warden, the Hero of Ferelden, his dear friend and lover, was gone. She had killed the archdemon and had sacrificed her life.

Alistair and Danielle had grown to care deeply for one another. Their friendship was strong and they were fiercely loyal to each other. The horror of what they saw as they journeyed throughout Ferelden during the blight drew them close both emotionally and in time, physically. Always passionate and deeply satisfying, their love making was born out of fear and loneliness and a shared need to feel the full beautify of life, in the face of death and despair. They loved one another truly, but they were not in love. Her heart belonged to another, and Alistair had not yet found the woman to whom he could fully give his heart.

Cullen was, to say the least, stunned when he opened the door and saw the King of Fereldon standing there. "It is cold out here Cullen. May I come in?" Alistair inquired.

"Yes, of course, please." Cullen said, still surprised that his stutter had not re-appeared since leaving the Tower.

Cullen's house was small but well built and comfortable. It was located just west of Redcliffe, near the south end of Lake Calenhad. It seemed right to Cullen to be able to look across the lake and see the Tower looming, knowing he was free its hold on him. And while the Tower could still conjure up painful memories, seeing it would remind him of Danielle. Those memories were the ones that sustained him through his bleakest moments.

Cullen had left the Tower not long after his horrific ordeal there. In the months that followed his departure, Cullen spent his anger at the Tower, at the Mages, at the Chantry, and at himself, building his house and tending to the small plot of farm land he had been able to purchase. New directions for his life began to take shape, and as Danielle had often encouraged, he began to write. Cullen began to believe that much of the Chantry's teaching, especially in regard to Mages, had somehow veered off course. He had also come to the realization that the treatment of the Circle Mages by the Templars was in part to blame for the tragedy that happened there.

Alistair gratefully accepted the tea Cullen brought him. He stood warming his hands in front of the hearth. As he stared at the fire, tears began to fill his tired blue eyes.

"Cullen. I am here to talk to you about Danielle." Alistair's voice was strained and cracking from emotion. "I had the privilege to be with her just before she died, and she made me promise to come to you as soon as I could." The tears that had been forming were now flowing freely. The thought of her, laying limply in his arms as she took in her last breath, was still painful. He composed himself and continued.

"She asked me to give you this letter and she wanted you to know that you still had her heart. She said to tell you that she would not be returning the amulet you gave her. She told me that it was a symbol of your love and it alone gave her the strength and courage to face the blight and to kill the archdemon. She wanted your love and strength and courage to be with her even in the world beyond. She also wanted you to know that she knew that words you spoke that day when we found you trapped in the tower, were the words of a Templar tortured and not the words of the man she knew and loved." Alistair could not continue.

Cullen's hands were cupped over his face, and he was weeping. Alistair moved towards the small oak table near the couch and reached for the decanter of wine. He poured a glass for himself and Cullen. They sat in silence for some time. Alistair could see the pain of regret etched on Cullen's face.

"She also wanted me to give you this. She had it made for you in Denerim." Alistair handed him a small velvet bag along with Danielle's letter. Cullen opened the bag. It was a heart shaped medallion attached to a beautifully tooled leather wrist strap. One side the name Cully was etched and on the other, Dani. Cullen smiled.

They talked into the early hours of the morning. Cullen shared his memories of Danielle. Alistair mostly listened, occasionally interjecting with something Danielle had shared with him about Cullen or with a tale that he imagined Danielle would have liked to have told Cullen herself, given the chance. As dawn approached, Cullen opened the letter. He read it silently with a few tears, several smiles, and an occasional laugh.

Cullen looked up at Alistair. "She mentions you." He said, and began to read from her letter. "Cully, please look after Ali. Help him if you can. I know he is the King, but he can be quite helpless sometimes. He will no doubt annoy you, as he does us all, but he is a good man, a fine leader, a cherished friend, and the true Hero of Fereldon."

Alistair smiled. So like Skye, he thought.

"Cullen, I must take my leave. I thought you might like to know that plans are underway to convert the Tower into a university, in honor of Danielle. My friends Leliana and Genativi plan to invite scholars from all of Thedas to study there. Leliana wishes to study Andraste and the interpretation of her words – or dare I say misinterpretation – by the Chantry, which I hear has become of interest to you. We need to resolve questions about the role of the Templars in relation to the Circle. There is much to be learned and much to be studied. Perhaps it is too soon to ask you this, but I would be honored if you would take a seat at Amell University. From what Danielle has told me about you, your knowledge and your personal experiences would be invaluable and would be most welcome."

Cullen bowed his head for a minute and then stood up.

"Your Majesty, I thank you for doing this. I am humbled by your presence. I cannot begin to explain to you how I felt about Danielle and what she meant to me. When I learned of her death, my heart shattered into a thousand pieces. I mourn her loss and the loss of what was and what could have – no - what should have been. I believe this is what she would have wanted and it would be my honor to assist you."

"I am glad and I thank-you. Leliana is in Redcliffe and will be waiting for you." said Alistair as he extended his hand to Cullen. "Well I must be off. I look forward to seeing you again."

As Cullen closed the door he instinctively touched the medallion around his wrist. "Thank you Dani." he whispered.

~xxx~

With this last painful task out of the way, it was time for Alistair to take up his duties at the Palace. It had been a grueling trip. Shortly after his coronation, he had returned to Ostagar with Wynne and Rory and upon discovering Cailan's decaying body, saw to his cremation sending his body off with dignity. He had retrieved some of Duncan's weapons as well as some of the King's personal items, which he thought to give to Anora. He then traveled to Highever with Rory. Rory had become a Grey Warden at last. He had agreed to help re-build the Wardens of Ferelden and to manage Vigil's Keep. But first Rory wanted to help Fergus Cousland reclaim Highever.

On his way back to Denerim, he passed through Loghain's lands. They had been overrun by darkspawn and now served as a temporary refugee camp for those whose towns and villages had been ruined in the blight. Such utter destruction pervaded Ferelden. There was much work to be done.

When Alistair finally arrived back at the Palace, Eamon, now the King's Regent, greeted him warmly and they embraced. They sat together in Alistair's study, sipping some Antivan brandy, smoking cigars, and bringing one another up-to-date on what had been transpiring at the palace during Alistair's road trip. Alistair was not pleased to hear that Anora was still being kept under lock and key. For whatever reason, Alistair did not see Anora as quite the threat that Eamon did. Alistair had done as much of the King's business as he could from the road, and thankfully Eamon was in Denerim to make sure his plans were getting underway. He was saddened to hear of Eamon's decision to send Isolde away. Eamon could not forgive her the death and destruction her dishonesty and selfishness had caused in Redcliffe. Alistair had no love for Isolde and had himself been a victim of her petty jealousies, but it pained him to see how Eamon suffered. He could see that Eamon still loved her.

Alistair excused himself, as soon as he could, and slipped off to his room for a nice hot bath. Dirty and road weary, Alistair eased himself into the large tub and closed his eyes. He needed time alone. Just as he was beginning to relax, he was disturbed by a minor ruckus in his sitting room.

"Dear Maker, not this again!"

In walked Zevran being rough handled by two Palace Guards. Zevran had done all he could to ensure the castle was secure and the guards were trained well enough to prevent even a skilled assassin like himself from gaining access to the Palace. Evidently Zevran's training had paid off.

"But I am having my bath Zevran." Alistair whined.

"And so you are!" Zevran moved closer, eyeing the bath water a little too closely for Alistair's comfort. Instinctively, Alistair covered his privates with his wash cloth.

"Apologies for the interruption, my dear King. Your guards have caught me three times this week." Zevran said with a grin. "I think they are well enough trained now. I will return to Antiva for a time and then, when they least expect it, I will try again." Zevran said triumphantly.

"Fair enough" Alistair said. "But your leaving does not please me."

"So, you would like me to please you?" Zevran replied luridly. "Well that can be arranged my dear Alistair."

"Ah, never mind Zev. See you when you get back" Alistair grinned.

And with Zev's departure, the last of his companions had left the Palace. Morrigan of course, had disappeared before the final battle and had not been seen since. Sten returned to his lands and Oghren went off to Amaranthine with Felsi to get married. He too had become a Grey Warden and intended to join Rory at Vigil's Keep. Wynne returned to the Circle to help with the transition there, and dear sweet Leliana was helping to set up the newly formed University. He was hoping to hear rumors soon of a romance between her and Cullen. They shared much in common and Danielle would be so pleased.

With everyone accounted for, Alistair closed his eyes to think about the daunting tasks that lay before him. Alistair suddenly felt very overwhelmed by all that had yet to be accomplished and very much alone. Willy, Danielle's fine Mabari hound, had for some reason decided that Alistair was to be his next master, let out a forlorn whine.

"So sorry Willy. I guess I am not as alone as I think!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 **

Before his return to Ostagar, Alistair thought it appropriate to pay a visit to Anora. She had been confined to a small set of rooms in the North Tower of the Palace for several weeks now and no doubt was fretting about what was to become of her. Alistair, much to Eamon's chagrin, no longer saw Anora as much of a threat. But with so many urgent and pressing matters at hand in the first few days since becoming King, Alistair had not yet decided what to do with her.

Anora was reading a rather lengthy and boring book about Dwarven history, when she heard some noise outside her door. She could swear she heard Alistair's voice. She readied herself, and as the door opened, she flung the book as hard and as accurately as she could.

"Bastard!" she screamed.

Alistair easily dodged her attack.

"True… I am a bastard." Alistair quipped. "Bad time for a visit I take it? Very well, I can take a hint. Good to see you my Lady." Alistair said as he closed the door. Seconds later he opened it again.

"Perhaps I should send Zevran down to you – you know give you a few pointers on effective assassination techniques – death by book – not your best choice I would expect."

As soon as the door shut, Anora broke into a smile. Alistair was both witty and charming. She was not quite sure why she had thrown the book at him – it had been an impulsive act to be sure. Not the best way to endear yourself to the man who was to decide your fate, she thought. She chastized herself realizing that Alistair was about to leave on an extended road trip, and she would be stuck here weeks longer, not knowing what he intended to do with her.

In the weeks and now months since she had been in captivity, Anora had much time to reflect. Her initial anger gave way to frustration and then to deep sadness. Anora had led a charmed life, at least until about the age of 15, when her mother died and the first signs of her father's madness became evident. She had been, up to that point, a happy, adventurous child, with loving parents, and good friends. Not long after her mother died, the world as Anora knew it changed. Her father refused to allow her to see her friends or to attend any social events, unless King Maric or his son Cailan was present. He isolated her from everything and everyone that was dear to her. He told her she would be marrying Cailan, and when she protested he slapped her face so hard that her cheek was red and bruised for a week afterwards. He was all she had. He was her father and she loved him, so she quickly learned to obey.

Loghain was obsessed with the idea that Anora would marry Cailan. He would coach her, telling her exactly what to say to Cailan and how to behave.

"You will show him your pretty smile and you will take his hands to your pretty breasts. You will marry him Anora, and you will bear him children. Do you understand me Anora?' Loghain stared at her with a look that chilled her to the bone.

"Yes Father" Anora replied meekly. She still cringed at the memory.

As the years progressed Loghain's rages became more frequent and Anora was usually his target. Slowly but surely the spirited young girl she once was, died. Something had happened to the Hero of River Dane, and his decent into depravity continued. A month after Maric died, she married. Cailan was a handsome man. He was kind hearted to be sure. Anora had hoped that this marriage would distance her from Loghain and keep her safe. At first it did. Loghain seemed to get what he wanted and left her alone.

Although she most certainly was not in love with Cailan nor he with her, they did care for another. They both understood this was a political arrangement designed to endear Cailan to the people – marrying the beautiful daughter of his father's best friend and the legendary Hero of River Dane. What he may not have realized was that the marriage ensured Loghain a continued place of power in the King's court. Cailan was a fine man, but naïve in many respects. As time passed, she could feel her true self begin to re-emerge. She busied herself with the duties usually assigned to the Queen. She supervised the kitchens, undertook charitable works, entertained guests and dignitaries. When special friends would visit she would prepare them wonderful dinners. She took great pride in her culinary skill - a gift from her mother. She was considered a beautiful, charming woman. The servants adored her, and she treated them with great respect and kindness, often seeming to prefer their company to that of the nobility.

But Cailan was a dreamer. He was unable to get to any of the real work of ruling Ferelden. Anora took the reins. Someone had to rule, and clearly it was not going to be Cailan, despite his best efforts. Her beauty and charm was matched by her intelligence and quick wit. She managed the affairs of the King very well. The more she took over, the more distant Cailan became. He began to spend more time away from the Place. Rumors of his infidelity grew. Her father became increasingly angry. This was an affront to him. After nearly four years of marriage, his daughter was still not with child. When the rumors began to include Cailan's illicit romance with an Orlesian woman, Loghain reached his boiling point. He moved into the Palace.

He would rage at her. He would call her names, belittle her, and hit her. Day by day he tore away at any remaining vestiges of self-esteem she had. Except when Cailan was present of course. Then he was the kind considerate father she had known once. Cailan rarely stayed at the Palace. He always had some reason or another to travem. She begged Cailan not to leave, told him of her father's madness. But Cailan did not believe her stories about him. Loghain was the Hero of River Dane and his father's dear friend, not the evil tyrant Anora was describing. Cailan truly believed this was simply her way of trying to keep him from his Orlesian lover.

One night, while she was asleep, her father stormed into her room. He must have ruminating on Cailan's most recent trip to Orlais. He yanked her out of her bed, ripping her nightdress half off her body in the process. She stood there half naked, clutching her nightdress and shaking. He began his tirade.

"You are a useless cow Anora." He began "You cannot even arouse the attention of a stupid little man like Cailan who seems enjoying screwing anyone but you, including Orlesian pigs. If I do not see you with child soon, I will find someone else to deposit seed in you."

When he left, Anora broke down. He had not hit her this time, but the depravity of his words hurt more than his hand across her face. She cried until she had no more tears left inside her. Her heart grew cold and her will grew hard. She would have to find a way to disappear and she began formulating plans. But before she could act, the blight was upon them.

In some ways she was almost relieved when she heard that Cailan was dead, for she was still without child. While she could not truly believe her father would have prostituted her, she could not be sure. Publically she defended her father against the rumors about him purposely abandoning the King in Ostagar. But, she knew in her heart, as Teagan had intimated, that Loghain had indeed left Cailan to die. Loghain no longer needed Cailan or his heir, to retain his power. He had Anora and she was now the sole ruler of Fereldon. Once again, she was trapped. She could not abandon the throne to Loghain for his madness would drive the country to ruin. She could not concede the throne to Alistair or surely she would die at the hands of her father. No, she would have to hold onto the throne, ally with the Grey Wardens, and once the blight was over, and her father's treachery exposed, the courts would put him death.

Of course, it did not quite work out as Anora had planned. And now, with Alistair's finally back at the Palace, perhaps she would soon learn what her fate was to be. She almost did not care.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Alistair reluctantly got out of the tub and dried himself off. He pulled on his favorite suede britches, a clean white shirt, and a leather vest. He pulled on his boots and quickly ran a brush through his tousled blond hair. He refused to wear any of those stiff and uncomfortable royal clothes he had found hanging in his wardrobe. What had been Eamon thinking?

He was not looking forward to seeing Anora. It would be another difficult and painful conversation, and Alistair had about enough of those. He stopped by the kitchen and giving Bertie a big kiss on her cheek, begged for a tray with tea and scones. He made his way to the North Tower. Before entering he asked one of the guards to knock on the door for him.

"My Lady Anora, it is me Alistair. I am coming in. No books this time please. I am carrying some very hot tea." His voice was strong, but Anora could hear his weariness.

"Very well your Majesty. I will try to restrain myself." Replied Anora.

"Promise? Alistair said from behind the door.

Anora was smiling. He did have a way of disarming her. Either he was a very stupid man, or a very clever one.

"I promise" she replied.

The door opened, and in walked Alistair. She was struck by how handsome he was. She was surprised that she felt her heart skip a beat. Alistair placed the tray on the table in front of Anora and filled two cups with tea. He handed her a cup which she accepted, and plated one of Bertie's scones for her.

"A peace offering of sorts. I hear you love these." Alistair smiled. Greeted by silence, Alistair stood up and cleared his throat.

"My Lady, apparently I will be getting straight to the point. I do not need to remind you of why you are here. Your bid to rule Ferelden was not successful. If that alone was not enough for you to wish to see me dead, then surely that I killed your father would be ample reason." He paused and searched her face. "Although I regret many things that have happened in my life, things, over which I had no control, there are only two actions over which I did have control that I regret deeply. One is that I could not keep Danielle from taking the killing blow." Anora could see the terrible pain on his face.

"And the other," he said, his voice strained and soft. "Is that I took vengeance on your father, rather than to seek justice. I should have seen your father sent to prison and tried for his crimes, although there can be little doubt that the outcome would have been the same. Instead I sought vengeance for Duncan, and for Cailan, for the Grey Wardens who died needlessly at Ostagar, for the elves sold into slavery, for Eamon, for his complicity in Howe's slaughter at Highever… and not justice" Alistair paused and searched Anora's face again. He saw her flinch, ever so slightly. She swallowed hard, but he could be sure of what she was thinking or feeling.

He sat down in the big overstuffed chair across from her and continued."Although I ask for your understanding of my actions, I do not expect your forgiveness. We have all lost so much in this horrific blight…" Alistair needed to compose himself. He could feel the bitter pain and anger over the destruction and the death he had seen, rise up as bitter bile in his throat. Anora broke eye contact with him, and stared down at her lap. She did not want to cry, not in front of Alistair. But his words had touched her, and she knew he spoke from sincerity and from great pain.

Alistair continued. "Anora, since the coronation, I have not been able to spend much time here at the Palace. But in what little time I have spent, I can see the worry and concern on the faces of the staff for your well-being. That speaks well of you. You were the Queen of Ferelden for five years, and the country prospered. If not for the blight, you would still be Queen. You may have been aware of your father's treacherous plans, but I doubt it. That he would send you to Howe ..." Alistair involuntarily shuddered at the thought of what Howe would have done to her had he had the chance. "tells me that perhaps you were as much of a victim of your father as Cailan." Alistair let out a long sigh before he continued.

"Anora" he said "You are free to stay here or to go. The decision is yours. But I must tell you that I have visited the lands of your Father that now fall to you, and you cannot go back there, at least not yet. As difficult as it might be for you to stay I would welcome you here for as long as you have need. I owe you at least that much. I have taken the liberty of having proper rooms prepared for you. I hope you will at least entertain the idea."

Anora would not look at him. She just sat there in silence, head down. He saw however, that her hands were clenched tight, her knuckles white.

He stood up to leave. "I passed through Ostagar and found these things of Cailan's. I thought you might like to have them." He placed the journal entries, the amulet, and one of Cailan's ceremonial daggers on the table. "Well, I shall take my leave of you and let you decide. I will come back tomorrow."

Alistair walked towards the door and grasping the handle he turned to her and said "Anora, I could really use your help. There is so much to be done." His voice was hoarse with emotion. With that said, he glanced at her. Her head was still down. A few strands of her silky, golden hair were cascading over her face and he could hear the gentle sound of tear drops following onto her lap.

When the door shut and Anora knew she was alone, she let the tears flow. She was confused, uncertain, relieved, overwhelmed. Was Alistair sincere or was this some sort of horrible trick? What would he have to gain by tricking her? Why would he want her here? To what end? How could someone with power be so generous of heart? Could she trust it? She had so many questions. Anora had good instincts, and while her heart knew without a doubt that Alistair was genuine, her head cautioned her.

She looked through Cailan's things. She appreciated Alistair's gesture and it was good to have something from Cailan's last battle to remember him by. She mourned his loss. Despite their failed marriage - a marriage that never should have been – he was a dear friend. Her thoughts moved to her Father. She recalled his final words to her:

"_Daughters never grow up Anora. They remain six years old with pigtails and skinned knees forever_"

She had taken some comfort that in the end, her father had shown that part of him that she had known and loved for most of her life. He had been a wonderful father until the madness took him. Alistair did not kill her father. That man died many years ago, Anora thought grimly. The fact was, whether Alistair realized it or not, putting him in prison and on trial would have been a far worse fate for him than slaying him on the spot. And had Alistair not killed him, then surely Alistair himself would have died that day by her father's hand.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Anora woke very early the next morning more rested than she had been since arriving at the Palace. There was really no decision to make. The Palace had been her home coming on six years now. And if Alistair was sincere and he really did need her help, then perhaps she could regain some sense of purpose. The one good thing, despite all she had endured personally, had always been the joy she took from serving her country.

She dressed quickly putting on her favorite embroidered tunic and soft suede boots. She cautiously tired the door. It opened. She peered around and saw that there were no guards. She tiptoed down the hall, found one of the side doors and exited quickly. She desperately needed to go to her favorite thinking spot. She saw the wrought iron bench in the distance, under the beautiful Chestnut tree and with a smile on her lips, rushed over to it. She sat down, closed her eyes and positioned her face so that the warmth of the morning sun touched her.

Alistair was in his study pacing. When he had gone to speak with Anora she was not there. It had been, to say the least, a very difficult conversation with Anora yesterday – well, lecture would perhaps be a more apt description. He had done all the talking after all. Eamon had not been pleased when Alistair told him what he had decided. But Alistair had been a Templar, and Templars were trained to observe carefully. They could read body language better than most and could trust what they saw and observed. Alistair had not read any deception in Anora, only great sadness. Alistair was also a Grey Warden. And Grey Warden's are notorious for taking leaps of faith with people whom others may not trust. He had learned to take help where he could find it. Danielle had certainly taught him that expecting the best from others would always bear more fruit, than expecting the worst.

Alistair's first thought was that perhaps she had chosen to leave. Alistair was not worried she was out there drumming up an army for a coup d'état, but he had given her Cailan's dagger. Well she was a lousy shot anyway, he chuckled to himself. Alistair was a bit surprised that the thought of Anora choosing to leave would disappoint him. He did not really know Anora, but in the brief time he had spent in the Palace, he did learn quite a bit about her. Clearly she was not the cold bitch he had once thought. The servants loved her, that was obvious. Listening to their gossip he soon found out how cruel Loghain's treatment of her had been. He had also been surprised to learn something of her and Cailan's relationship. One of things that he had found amongst Cailan's personal effects was a letter, which upon reading, rightly or wrongly, he had burned. It was an unfinished letter to his Orlesian lover. Alistair blushed just thinking about the content. The rumors about Cailan were true then, and clearly Anora knew it. Despite what must have been personally painful, despite what fears she may have had about her father, the fact remained that she continued to attend to her duties with a steady hand. Beneath her defenses was a very intelligent and honorable woman. And of course, she was remarkably beautiful.

As he sat down at his desk he glanced out the window. There she was, sitting on a bench in the garden. He made his way downstairs and out the side door exit to join her. She heard his footsteps and opened her eyes. Again, she was struck at how handsome he looked standing there in his leathers, intense blue eyes staring down at her. His arms were crossed and one brow was raised. He had a broad grin on his face.

"Cailan's knife?" Alistair inquired.

"Damn!" Anora shot back "I knew I forgot something. I guess you are safe for now." Anora smiled.

He sat down beside her. She took a deep breath. Alistair knew that what she was about to say was going to be hard for her.

"Alistair" She started. " I accept your gracious offer, and can only pray that you were sincere in asking for my help. I could not bear to think that I am but some ornament to hang on your mantle to improve your popularity with the people. I have neither the stomach nor the heart to play politics with you." She paused and moved her hand across her face to push away some errant strands of hair.

She continued. "There is much you do not know, and much I do not have the strength to tell you, Alistair. But know this. I no longer harbor any ill will towards you because of my father. Justice may be better than vengeance but for my Father there would be far more honor to die at the hands of Maric's son than to have been locked up, tried, and hung from the gallows. Had that been your decision, I have no doubt that whatever shred of humanity he had left in him would have been lost in that process." She paused, tears filling her eyes. " Trust me Alistair. If you had not killed him that day – he most certainly would have killed you."

They sat there is silence. Alistair waited patiently for her to continue.

"Do you know what the irony is in all this? Like you, I did not really want the throne. I never wanted it. It was thrust upon me. First, by my father forcing me to marry Cailan and then because Cailan , as well-meaning as he was, abandoned his responsibilities to the throne and to me. Alistair, I was desperate to hold onto the throne, in part because I feared you to be another Cailan – a well-meaning dreamer. But mostly, selfishly, if I had not tried to hold onto it, if I had conceded it to you, then without a doubt, my father would have killed me. So there you have it Alistair, the nasty truth." She paused again, the wind was starting to pick up and this time Alistair gently pushed away another loose strand of hair from her face. He felt some shock as for as their eyes met, there was a moment of sweet tenderness between them that could not be denied. This time it was Alistair who broke eye contact and who hung his head, for fear the faint blush that was warming his cheeks would show.

Anora tried to hold back her tears but she could not. She began to sob. Something told her in her heart that it was safe. Instinctively Alistair hugged her. He held her in his arms for a long time, stroking her hair, and telling her it would be better now. Finally he took his hand to her chin and gently turned her face to him. He looked into her large soft brown eyes, and with a strength and a certainty that could not be denied he said,

"I will never let anyone hurt you again."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Anora had not yet moved into the main living area of the Palace. She received word that Alistair would be gone from the Palace for a few days, and that her new accommodations might take some time yet. She was relieved that he was gone. Anora regretted crying in front of Alistair. She had shared too much. She could not allow herself to be vulnerable. She could not allow herself to get close enough to anyone, only to be betrayed again, for she knew it would break her. And she could not deny what she was feeling towards Alistair.

He had left her a pile of documents to read so that she might become more current on the status of Ferelden. The documents included a series of royal acts and proclamations, notes taken of the various meetings Alistair had held, and some of Alistair's own personal journal writings of his recent travels through Fereldon. She read through each and every document he had given her and found herself extremely impressed over what Alistair had already accomplished. Any fears she had that he was another Cailan were quickly dispelled. His actions spoke of someone with intelligence, wisdom and vision, of someone unafraid to do the right thing.

Anora recalled a brief conversation she had with Danielle the Grey Warden. Anora was trying to secure Danielle's support for the Landsmeet. She presented numerous arguments to Danielle as to why she was a far better leader for Fereldon than Alistair. Danielle of course had agreed to support her, and then she said something that Anora found rather odd at the time.

"Very well." Danielle had said "I will support your bid. But you should know, my Queen, that there are many different kinds of leaders. Alistair leads from behind. It is very effective - truly."

Anora had no idea what Danielle was talking about, and of course, Danielle had not supported her bid. But in reviewing the documents she began to understand what Danielle meant by leading from behind. Alistair's greatest skill seemed to be his ability to gently push others in the right direction. He would provide the right amount of information, ask the right questions at the right time to the right people and suddenly his ideas were their ideas. Anora well understood how much more effective outcomes tended to be when people committed to what they believe are their own ideas then when they believe they are being told to do. She had better watch herself, she smiled. Alistair was very clever.

While Alistair was gone, Anora busied herself. Much to Bertie's delight, Anora returned to the kitchens and every morning made sure she was there to help Bertie prepare the daily meals for the troops and the staff. She reviewed the staff schedules, clarified their duties, worked in the gardens, and generally brought order to the Palace routines. She found herself missing Alistair. Try as she might to put him out of her thoughts , she could not. Alistair was a strong and handsome man. He was kind and gentle, and he made her laugh. He seemed to genuinely care for her, but still she was not sure she could trust him. And besides, he probably hated her. She was Loghain's daughter after all.

A few days later, Alistair returned home. Antsy, he decided he and Willy needed a bit of exercise. Alistair was jogging around the perimeter of the Palace, alongside Willy, when he caught a glimpse of Anora working intently in a flower garden. She had not heard him approach. Facing the garden bed, she reached around behind for her trowel , but found herself touching a hard round object. She screamed and turned around. The object was Alistair's boot. Damn him she thought, as she looked up at him squinting, the sun in her eyes.

"Ahem!" Alistair said gently rubbing his nose. She stared at him.

"Ahem!" he said more loudly this time, continuing to rub at his nose. He was grinning widely now and Anora was getting annoyed.

'What! What?" she finally said.

"Dirt." Alistair said pointing to his nose.

"Dirt?" Anora was confused.

"On your nose woman. You have dirt on your nose." he replied with a wicked grin.

"Oh for Makers sake!" She said and gathered a handful of wet mud and threw it at him. He dodged, and the mud splat all over poor Willy's face. He growled.

"I thought you were past the lets-throw–something-at-Alistair stage." He said laughing heartily.

"Well apparently not!" Anora said standing up and dusting herself off and looking quite annoyed and quite beautiful. He reached down and rubbed the remaining flecks of dirt from her nose. He looked at her quizzically.

"Anora, you've changed something. You look different." he said.

"Dirt on your nose will do that you know." She said sardonically.

He laughed. "Yes, I suppose it will" Still gazing at her, a triumphant look crossed his face. " It's your hair isn't it. You've let down your hair. It makes you look …" Alistair's expression softened he whispered "even more beautiful."

Realizing what he had just said, Alistair quickly became flustered.

"I- I- I 'm sorry. Did I say that? I did say that didn't I? Well I didn't mean it! Well I meant it, but you know, not in that way. Well, all right, I meant it in that way but… Well, perhaps I should go." He was babbling now and blushing. Anora felt a sudden urge to wrap her arms around him and plant a big kiss on his cheek, but she restrained herself.

Off Alistair ran with Willy. The dog turned around, mud dripping down his face and gave her a menacing growl for good measure.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

It did not take long for Alistair to notice the order that Anora had brought back to the Palace while he had been gone. While he could not pinpoint what was different exactly, the place had a feeling of calm. Still feeling a bit awkward about his outburst of the other day, he found the courage to seek her out and to thank her profusely for all she had done. He marveled at her grasp of all the small yet important tasks that were needed to keep the Palace and the country going. Things that Alistair did not have a clue about.

Alistair and Anora got into the habit of meeting for breakfast each day in Alistair's study. One day, Anora brought in some piping hot sweet buns. Alistair absently took one and wolfed it down with great gusto. As he grabbed his third bun he commented.

"Has Bertie gone to cooking school at last? These are wonderful! Are there more?" Anora smiled, looking quite pleased with herself and replied, "There may be more tomorrow. I'll ask."

From that day on, a tray filled with delicious pastries, buns and breads, and delicate sandwiches would always find their way to Alistair's study just in time for their breakfast meetings. After about a week, Alistair motioned to Anora and drew her close. "You know Anora," he whispered conspiratorially "I think Bertie had a bit of a crush on me. You know the saying – the way to a man's heart is through his stomach!" The twinkle in his eye confirmed that Alistair knew the treats were her creation and her doing.

Anora blushed.

Alistair was falling in love. That Anora would get up early every day to make him something special was the first concrete sign that maybe, just maybe, Anora returned some of his feelings. They should be enemies, He should hate her. She should hate him. Anora was not the woman Alistair had once thought she was. Her humor and her grace were to Alistair particularly remarkable in the face of what she had gone through. Her father had brutalized her and her husband had abandoned her. Alistair wanted to protect her, to heal her heart. She needed him, and Alistair needed to be needed. Perhaps that was why he had not fallen in love with Danielle. Danielle, as much as she would have protested the thought, did not need Alistair. Nor did she want him. Not like she wanted Cullen. Not like he wanted Anora. But Alistair knew Anora was not ready. He knew she might never be ready. Especially for him. He was Cailan's half brother and the murderer of her father. Could she trust again, and if so, could she ever trust him?

~xxx~

Every day, Alistair and Anora would review Alistair's schedule and plans. He would ask for her opinions and advice. Although Anora felt that she had nothing much to add, Alistair assured her that her insights were astute and very helpful. She was impressed on how effectively he was governing. He lead not only from behind, he was leading front and centre as well. His decisions were well considered, just, and even handed. The only thing Alistair lacked as far as Anora was concerned was a more subtle diplomacy. Alistair did not have much guile. And while that was hardly a fault, it could see him trouble when dealing with some of the other shall we say, more "sensitive" countries of Thedas. Anora made it clear to Alistair that she would gladly coach him when the time came.

Alistair was equally impressed with Anora. He was particularly pleased with how she was able to pick up threads of his sometimes random thoughts and ideas and weave them together into something solid and concrete, adding new depth and dimensions to his plans. Their plans really. Alistiar was not afraid to make decisions. But somehow Anora's voice made the decisions better.

"So you see our dilemma" Alistair was saying to Anora. "The Clerics are angry enough at me as it is for cutting off their little hairy balls when it comes to the Mages. I am not sure I can afford to risk their further wrath by sending them south to dig dirt in Lothering."

"Cutting off their little hairy balls?"Do we need our lessons in diplomacy to start today Alistair?" She laughed. "At least get rid of the "little hairy" part."

"Point taken. Templar's 'little hairy balls' have now been officially banished from my vocabulary. How this - I emasculated them." Alistair grinned. "Better?"

"Better" Anora smiled "But I see your point. Re-building Denerim is no doubt your first priority. It is a strong symbol to the people. But if the devastation in the south is as dire as you say, then you cannot pour all your resources into Denerim. There are Templars out there with strong backs and strong hands and nothing to do. Surely the Chantry would see helping the people of south rebuild their homes and plant their crops as the work of the Maker."

Alistair responded. "The Chantry is powerful, and they do not always do what even the King may ask of them. They pretend of course, give some sort of half-hearted effort and then they throw their hands up in defeat finding some reason why whatever it was that was asked of them could not possibly have been done! Perhaps if you went to the Grand Cleric…"

"Me?" Anora was surprised.

"Think about it Anora. If you made the case, the Clerics would almost certainly agree. People out there still assume you and I are enemies. By agreeing to your request, the Clerics would assume that helping you would be somehow be hurting me. Its brilliant! Don't you see? We aren't still enemies are we… no books or mud hidden in your pockets?" Alistair said.

"No – just some poisoned sweet buns… " she gigled. "Look, Alistair, I see your point and I would gladly do this for you, for the people in the south - but I have been "away" from things for a while, and, and …"

"And you doubt yourself." Alistair said quietly.

"Yes."

"Anora" he said rather sternly " You are an intelligent, beautiful, persuasive, charming, and accomplished woman. You can do this." His conviction was so strong and sincere, Anora conceded.

"Very well. I will do this. I will see to the arrangements."

"Done!" Alistair replied smirking.

"Damn you Alistair" Anora said furiously. And she proceeded to take the half eaten sweet bun off Alistair's plate, smash it into his face, and storm off.

"New tactic Anora?" He called out as she was leaving, licking up the crumbs that were falling from his face. " Smothering the King to death with sweet buns?"

"Errrrggh!" came the reply. He could not see the smile playing on her lips.

~xxx~

It had been several weeks since Alistair had promised Anora new accommodations. Finally they were ready. Although the North Tower had been her home for the last many months, she did not regret leaving them. One of Alistair's personal guards, Edwards, escorted her to her new quarters. With some trepidation she followed Edwards. She hoped they would not be the ones she had shared with Cailan. Too many painful memories. Thankfully they were not. But it did not take Anora long to see where she was being escorted. It was the to the suite that had once belonged to Maric's wife, Queen Rowan. The rooms were spacious and beautifully appointed. There was a balcony off the main sitting area which looked over her favorite place in the east gardens. Fresh flowers donned the tables. The colors and hues were soft and muted and warm. From the main sitting room there were doors leading to a small study, and a large, beautiful bedroom.

As Anora stood there taking it in, her former personal maid, Erlina came bursting into the room. She had not seen Erlina since Danielle and Alistair had rescued her from Howe's estate. They embraced. Anora was thrilled to see her.

"My Lady, I am so pleased to be here. I am so grateful that King Alistair found me and asked me to come here to help you. And to think he would give up his rooms for you. And the way he fussed to make sure they would be furnished to your taste. I am so happy for you my Lady." Erlina was close to tears.

"What? Alistair arranged for all this himself? These were Alistair's rooms?" Anora was stunned.

"Why yes my Lady. I was still at the Arl's estate. The King, he came to visit the Arl , and he saw me there. He asked if I would come to the Palace to assist you. He said that I would know what would make you feel at home there. Of course I was happy to go. My lady, I think the King must be a very kind man."

"Yes," Anora replied. "Yes he must be."

Anora was overcome with emotion. She did not notice Erlina leave, or Alistair enter. He came up to her from behind.

"Why would he do such a wonderful thing?" She said aloud. "Why?"

"Because, I am a wonderful man?" Alistair responded grinning. "Or how about this? How about because you are a wonderful woman and because you deserve the best I have to offer. Surely you know how much I value you, how much you have helped me." He touched her shoulders, and gently turned her around until she was facing them. "Anora." he began

"I am scared Alistair." she said

"I know. So am I." He leaned in to kiss her. It was a soft, gentle, warm kiss, and Anora melted into his arms. She tucked her head under his chin and he held her.

Finally he said it. "Anora, I am not Cailan and I am not your father. I will not push you into anything that you are not ready for, or anything that you do not want. But I have come to care deeply for you Anora. It is crazy I know. But there it is."

Anora panicked. Suddenly she felt unworthy. He felt her stiffen and he released her.

"Ah, I see." He said "I apologize." and he left. She could see the hurt in his eyes, and her heart broke.

As she walked into the bedroom she saw that a bath was waiting for her. The escape she needed.

She sunk into the steamy water, and unbidden, the tears came. Damn Alistair. He had the ability to make her laugh and to make her cry. He frustrated her, angered her, and he made her heart melt. But she did not deserve his affection or his love. Alistair deserved so much better than she. Her heart was starting to heal thanks to Alistair, but the years of emotional and physical abuse were not so easily dismissed and there was still a part of her that felt like the worthless cow her father told her she was – the woman Cailan did not want. But she had seen the hurt in Alistair and no matter what her personal demons, to hurt Alistair was unconscionable. She would have to find a way to make it right.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Despite her resolution to apologize to Alistair – to explain herself, Anora had become distant. She thanked him repeatedly and graciously for bringing Erlina to her and for the gorgeous rooms. She expressed how touched and humbled she was by his generosity. But Alistair could sense she was pulling back. He thought he was getting close to Anora. He understood her hesitancy of course, she had told him that she was afraid, but it hurt nonetheless. Anora was an amazing woman he had come to learn, and he was in love with her. He had waited all his life to find someone he could fully give his heart to and he had found her. But he had lost his heart to a woman who might not be able to love him back. He tried to put her out of his mind, but could not.

As for Anora, she had begun to conclude that if she distanced herself from Alistair then maybe he could open himself up to someone else. Trying to make amends might only lead him on. Alistair needed someone more deserving. Someone who could love him the way he needed to be loved. Certainly there were plenty of woman throwing themselves at his feet wanting to get into his bed. Although Alistair made it very clear to each of these women that he was not interested, the offers, the flirting, did not stop. And why should it stop? Alistair was certainly worth pursuing. Not only was Alistair the King, but he was charming, smart, strong, incredibly good looking, and kind. He would never hurt anyone if he could help it. ..And as that final thought formed in her head – it froze, dangling before her. She recalled Alistair's words to her, the words that first told her heart that she could love this man. She remembered staring into his beautiful blue eyes, seeing the strength and sincerity in them. She remembered that he promised her that he would never let anyone hurt her again. She remembered how safe she felt in his arms. And she knew that she had been a fool. If Alistair saw something in her, then it was there, even if she did not always see it herself. Whether Alistair knew it or not, he had her heart. If Alistair needed her, if he still wanted her, then he would have her. She knew she needed him, and she knew she wanted him and no one else.

The breakfast meetings had begun to peter out. The tray was still laid out for him every day, but more often than not, he ate alone. It had been a few weeks since Anora's silent rejection, Alistair was in study reviewing some trade documents. It was getting chilly. The fire was roaring and Willy lay at his feet snoring. Anora had joined him to report that the Templars had arrived in Lothering. He was proud of Anora and could see she had gained back much confidence as a result of her success in meeting with the Grand Cleric. He was pleased to see her. Something seemed different. She was relaxed. Her long beautiful golden hair was still set loose, she was smiling again, and she looked more radiant and beautiful than ever.

"Alistair", she began. "I've been doing some thinking lately."

Her words trailed off as Edwards entered the room.

"Your Majesty a note from Arl Eamon."

"Thanks Edwards."

Alistair unsealed the note. Eamon had just returned home from a visit to Isolde, now living in Orlais. In the note Eamon reported that while in Orlais he had been advised that the Empress of Orlais was planning a surprise visit to the Royal Palace. Alistair had requested a meeting with the Orlesians some time ago to discuss Grey Warden business and to thank them for the aid they had apparently agreed to provide to Cailan. He had expected that he would travel there to meet with whatever official the Empress deigned to assign to meet with him. He had not expected that anyone from Orlais would come to Fereldon, and certainly not the Empress herself. Alistair was concerned about what this might mean. He understood Fereldons well but not Orlesians with regard to their politics. He would need Anora's help. Clever and subtle diplomacy would be required. Alistair could be charming, but he did not have experience or the skill to dance around the Empress of Orlais. To complicate matters, this was the very woman with whom Cailan had an affair. The Empress of Orlais, here in the Palace, with Anora! Wonderful. He did not want to bring the matter up with Anora at the moment.

The concern across Alistair's face did not go unnoticed by Anora. She was tempted to ask him about the note, but held her silence.

"Apologies Anora. I must see Eamon. I will come find you later and we can continue."

Alistair had no intention of going to see Eamon right away. He scratched off a hasty note and asked Edwards to see that Eamon received it. They could meet tomorrow. Alistair needed to think. The Orlesians were a fine people, but their nobility loved intrigue. Although relations between the nations had improved considerably since the Fereldon uprising, Fereldon was in a weakened state and ripe for the taking. Not all the Orlesian nobles accepted the terms of peace between the nations. Many were bitter and were humiliated by their ultimate defeat. Certainly the blight and Cailan's affair with the Empress would have squelched any inclination for renewed hostilities, but the blight was over and Cailan was gone. It would be the perfect time to strike.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Alistair found himself in the basement mausoleum. Here, the ashes of those who had come before him and those whose service to the country was considered extraordinary, had their ashes laid to rest. Ornate urns containing the ashes of Maric, Cailan, and Rowan were here. Alistair had even found a place for Loghain near to Maric and Rowan. He had been their friend and once he was a hero. Alistiar came here often when he need to think, or when he needed to remember. It was to Grey Warden section that Alistair sat. Riordan was here, as was Duncan. Duncan's urn was symbolic of course – his body was never found. It was to Danielle's urn that he went to now. He lit a scented candle in front of her urn and began to speak to her.

"Dear sweet Danielle. I so wish you were here. I think you would be pleased. So much has already been accomplished." He told her of Cullen, of Wynne, of Zevran and Rory, and Oghren. He told her of the University and the rebuilding of Lothering, Denerim, and so many of the other towns and villages that had been destroyed by the blight. And he told her about Anora. About how she had helped him, supported him, listened to him. He told her what Anora had accomplished in just a few short months, and how almost every decision he made was a little bit smarter and little bit more complete because of her knowledge, her wisdom, and her input.

"She gets me I think. And she laughs at my jokes," he added with a smile. "At least when she's not throwing something at me." Alistair paused. "She finishes me – she is my other half. I am not whole without her. She is the most remarkable woman I have ever known. She is strong and passionate. And she is so beautiful sometimes she takes my breath away and makes my knees go weak. She cares deeply for her country and for others. She has endured personal pain and yet has chosen not to allow that pain to turn into anger, bitterness or hatred, but rather to forgiveness. She has my heart Danielle. Just as Cullen had yours. But alas, I do not have hers…"

"Yes you do Alistair. That is, if you still want it" It was Anora. Alistair spun around, heart beating wildly.

"I was told I could find you here. I did not intend to eavesdrop. I am sorry. I should not have intruded." Anora said.

"What did you say?" Alistair asked anxiety creeping into his voice.

"I said I was sorry that I intruded on your privacy."

"No, no, before that." Alistair insisted.

"Oh. I said that I did not mean to eavesdrop." Anora replied smiling.

"And before that Anora – what did you say?" He was almost pleading with her now.

"I said that I love you Alistair Theirin. I said that I had been a fool. I said that I need you and I want you, and that I pray to the Maker you need and want me too."

With a beaming smile Alistair and stood up. He place his hands firmly on her shoulders..

"I love you Anora. And if you would give me your heart, then I would be honored to accept. And I would cherish it always." He searched her eyes. He brought his hand to her face gently caressing her neck and bringing her lips to his they kissed. Deeply and ardently.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Alistair came to her room that night. He sat down on the overstuffed sofa chair, opposite to Anora.

"You must think me a bit of a fool, talking to dead people." He said.

She smiled. "I think I understand. Alistair. I have had a few conversations with my father down there too. Alistair, tell me about you – there is so much of your life that I still do not know."

Alistair sighed deeply. "Well, there is not much to tell really. I am not sure I had much of a life before I became a Grey Warden. I never knew my mother, and well my father… I did not know him either obviously. Arl Eamon took me in and he had been like a father to me, but Isolde convinced him to send me away. Not that I ever really felt fully accepted or welcome in the Arl's home, but well, it was home. And I knew Eamon cared. I was sent to the Chantry. Let's just say that living there was not pleasant, and by the time I was 12, I had the childhood beaten out of me. Perhaps I can show you the scars later? " He grinned mischievously.

"Hmm, I think I would like that." she replied coyly.

"I had no friends. The commoners hated me because of the rumors that I was some noble's bastard son and the sons of nobles hated me because I was a bastard commoner. We really need to do something about our little caste system here in Fereldon." He paused.

"At any rate, I was angry and hurt and caused as much trouble as I could – trying to drive the sisters and anyone else I could, mad. And then I was thrown into Templar training. I had no choice really. And while the killing mages bits horrified me and the religious bits were of little interest, I came to take some comfort in all the other things I was learning. I read almost everything I could get my hands on. I learned how to fight and I was good at it. As I grew older, I realized that my birthright was dangerous. If I gained any sort of reputation, if I was seen as any kind of leader, no doubt my life was forfeit. I would be seen as a threat to the throne. So I learned to hide who I was. I was dumb, bumbling, well meaning Alistair, and after a time, I think I came to believe that myself. Duncan was really the only one who knew me, who saw past the act. I was honored when he chose me to become a Grey Warden. I felt that I was finally home. I was accepted. And then I met Danielle…"

"You loved her very much." Anora said.

"Yes – she was a remarkable woman. She knew me Anora, better than I knew myself and she loved me unconditionally. She forced me to be who I was inside, and she would accept no less. She took the wounded boy in me, and made me a man. I know that sounds foolish and trite, but it is true."

Alistair got up and moved to sit by Anora. She laid her head on his chest, and he stroked her beautiful hair and kissed her atop her head.

"I am glad you met her." She murmured.

"And you my love, what about you?"

Anora began to relay her story. She told him of the good days, before her father went mad. And then, she told him of the beatings, the constant berating, his betrayal, of his obsession with seeing her married to Cailan and pregnant with child regardless of whom the father may be. Alistair had little doubt that Loghain fully intended to see his daughter raped by Howe. It sickened him. She spoke of Cailan. There was great fondness there of course, but hurt and anger. Cailan did not protect her. Alistair held her tighter as her tears fell.

"I guess we have both been wounded deeply. Danielle helped you learn to trust, as you are helping me. There is some sweet justice in that." Whispered Anora.

They kissed. They caressed. Alistair's hands found her breasts, fondling them as he was kissing her face, her neck, and her arms. Anora pulled off his shirt, tracing her fingers along his muscled chest, playing with his nipples. He picked her up, her legs entwined around him, breasts bare now. She arched her back and began to moan as his mouth hungrily tasted her breasts. He carried into her bedroom as he kissed her neck and her lips. He stood there admiring her soft curves. She raised herself up, moving her hands to his rub his thighs, his groin, feeling him become hard. She undid his belt and removed his pants. He was hard and stiff, and she took him in her mouth hungrily. Moaning, Alistair detached himself and lay beside her. He kissed and caressed every inch of her body, massaging her, fingers and tongue reaching into her. She turned him over, kissing his every scar, murmuring, moaning. She gently guided him into her. Alistair slowly entered her, moving in and out, stimulating her in all the right places. Finally they came togetherwith such ardor and passion that they both weeped. Sated, they fell into one another's arms and slept.

Alistair woke up about an hour later. Anora was wrapped in his arms. He could feel the wetness of her tears against his chest. Panic stricken he pleaded with her to speak to him.

"Anora I am sorry, have I done something wrong ? Did I not please you?"

She looked to him and whispered "Alistair, no one has ever made love to me before. I have never felt anything like that." she said shyly. "It was beautiful and I am overwhelmed."

Alistair was confused. "But Anora, surely Cailan and you…" he did not want to complete the sentence.

"We had sex Alistair, but Cailan never made love to me. You made love to me Alistair with warmth and tenderness. You have made me feel adored and loved and special. Alistair, I want to please you. Did I.. Was it?" She buried her head in his arms.

"Anora" he said. "You did, and I want more."

"Me too." she smiled happily. He drew her closer and they made love again.

They awoke the next morning to shrieks. Erlina had entered the bedroom and seeing Alistair there she ran out of the room, screaming. Anora and Alistair looked at one another and began to laugh.

"No wonder she is shrieking" Alistair giggled. " I think my rear end was exposed."

"Well – I think you have a beautiful rear end Alistair!" Anora said as she began to rub her hands up and down his legs, caressing his bottom and giving it a squeeze. Alistair groaned and he let Anora have her way with him. When he was sated her turned to her and said "Your turn."

After he pleasured her, they bathed together, had breakfast and lunch in bed, lay in one another's arms, and talked. It was late in the afternoon by the time they dressed. Reluctantly Alistair said "Meet me in my study. I have something I must talk to you about. It is important love, I am sorry. Eamon will be here shortly. It is about Orlais. Apparently the Empress is coming here for a visit."

He watched her face closely, for her response and Anora could see Alistair's worry.

"Is she now?" Anora said slowly. "That is very interesting. Alistair, you need not be concerned about me. I do not welcome the presence of my husband's former lover here at the Palace. But this is not about me. This is about Fereldon. I will help you in any way I can. You know that."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

The weeks that followed were a blur. All the appropriate formalities associated with hosting a visit from another nation's head of state were planned and in place. Thankfully Anora looked after most of the details. She insisted that, as much as both she and Alistair loathed the idea of investing time and resources into frivolities - dinner parties, soirees and the like – hosting these affairs would be seen by the Orlesians as a sign that the country prospered and was strong. Alistair had a good grasp of the politics and the history of Orlais, so no help was needed there, but Anora coached Alistair as best she could on Orlesian etiquette and diplomacy.

"Please do not tell her that she has hairy little balls!" Anora said with a smile. Anora had by now, moved into Alistair's rooms. He told Anora that he could not bear waking up without her beside him and Erlina's sneaking about and screaming was driving him mad. As she lay in his arms after a particularly ardent love making session she suddenly jumped out of bed and insisted on seeing what Alistair intended to wear to the private dinner party that was to take place between Alistair and the Empress. Anora was appalled when Alistair proudly displayed what he had chosen to wear.

"Have you learned nothing Alistair? These will not do. You cannot wear your leathers to dinner." She chided him.

"But those other clothes are itchy" Alistair whined. She loved it when he acted helpless.

"Very well big baby. I will have something made for you." Anora laughed.

The Empress had arrived taking up Anora's rooms. The festivities had begun but they involved neither Alistair nor the Empress. They were for the nobles. Whatever the Empress had planned, it would occur two nights later at the private dinner between her and Alistair. Anora had caught a glimpse of her. She was breathtakingly beautiful. Tall and regal. Think dark wavy hair, down to her waist. Shapely hips and large breasts, barely concealed. She could see Cailan's attraction to her. She was exotic and intoxicating. Perhaps Cailen was replaying the stories of Maric and the exotic and intoxicating Keitrel in his mind. She tried to ignore the seeds of doubt tickling her brain. Would Alistair…

She worked with the seamstresses for the next two days on Alistair's clothes. It was a tunic of black velvet and matching leggings, each piece lined with fine silk, so it wouldn't itch! The Theirin crest emblazoned on the tunic was one of fine yellow gold tones that complimented his hair. Knee high soft leather boots completed the outfit. A gold medallion, with the Grey Warden insignia, laid in beautifully tooled in black Antivan leather added the final touch. Elegant yet simple. Everything had seemed to go smoothly so far. All that remained was the dinner. It would be there that the Empress would reveal to the King of Fereldon the true reason for her visit and there that Alistair would have to determine what threat there may be. She watched him dress. Maker he was beautiful. He turned to her looking for her approval. She fussed over his collar and he took her hand.

"I wish you would come." He said. "I don't need you there Anora – I want you there"

"And I would love to be there to support you Alistair, but I have no standing in the court and it would be considered an affront. Truly."

"Ah but you do have standing in the court my love." Alistair said smiling.

He stood there with a mischievous grin looking like a school boy bursting to reveal some wonderful secret only he knew. She hated it when he looked like that. It meant there was some sort of surprise coming and she might have to throw something at him! He took both her hands into his and got down on one knee.

"Anora, you are the love of my life. You are my heart and my soul. I cannot bear to think of being without you. I want you beside me forever. I need you and I want you Anora. Marry me Anora." Alistair's voice was full of emotion; He pulled a small box from inside his tunic. It was the most beautiful ring she had ever seen.

She thought her heart would burst from her chest. She had never been so full of joy in her life. The tears fell and all she could do was nod. He slipped the ring on her finger.

"Praise the Maker – she said yes!"

They sat together in silence. Peaceful and content. Finally Anora said "You must finish up getting ready."

"Not without you." Alistair said firmly

"Alistair - I cannot go like this." Anora smiled.

He began to pull off her clothes. He was kissing her on her shoulders and on her neck."Think of how it will unbalance her." He whispered.

"Alistair!" she laughed" What are you doing? We don't have time."

He jumped up. "You are right of course."

He walked over to his wardrobe and opened the door. He pulled out the most exquisite dress she had ever seen. It was made from black velvet embroidered with delicate lace, dyed in the same yellow gold tones as the crest on Alistair's suit. The bodice was full and flowing and the top was as a corset, designed to showcase her long beautiful neck and her beautiful bare shoulders. He helped her into the dress. As he kissed her neck, he placed a necklace of diamonds matching those in her ring, around it.

She turned around to face him. Her hair hung long and loose enhancing her beauty with an exotic sultriness. Her large, soft eyes shone. Her beauty radiated, and Alistair was moved to tears.

"Makers Breath…you are so beautiful." he whispered.

Anora was speechless. There was nothing to throw at him.

xxx

They had planned their strategy with Eamon. The Empress would reveal nothing with Anora present, of that they were certain. Anora would excuse herself, feigning a headache, and Alistair would escort the Empress into the small library on the main floor for brandy and dessert. Anora would make sure she was seen ascending the stairs, but would sneak back down through the servant's quarters and listen in. There was a small storage closet adjoining the library, and conversations could be quite easily heard though the grating in the wall. If Alistair needed her he would start to cough. And if Anora thought Alistair was about to bring the wrath of Orlais onto Fereldon, she would rush in and try to smooth things over. She doubted it would come to that.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Alistair escorted the Empress to the dining room. He seated her, and took his place directly opposite her. The Empress noticed the additional place setting. As she was about to inquire about it, Anora, walked in.

"Ah, my darling. You have joined us." Alistair said as he stood up.

"Your Majesty" Was that the term I was to use thought Alistair. He looked quickly at Anora who remained passive. "May I present to you my betrothed? Anora Mac Tir." Anora curtsied. The Empress made no attempt to get up. She looked at Anora coolly.

"Yes, Anora. Cailan's wife."

"Widow." Alistair corrected.

"Yes – widow. Of course. My deepest sympathies. And how wonderful it is to learn that not only are you no longer under lock and key, you have the other Theirin boy now. How absolutely precious!" The Empress replied.

Anora smiled sweetly and touched Alistair on the arm. "Yes, I am fortunate" Anora said, wanting to throttle her.

Dinner passed without incident. Anora did most of the talking, impressing the Empress with her knowledge of Orlais. Alistair sat there, mostly silent, trying to look bored and interjecting from time to time with some vaguely related Grey Warden adventure. It was as they had planned. Anora would reprise her role as the real power of Fereldon with Alistair, like Cailan, acting the kind hearted dreamer. They played their parts well. It was subtle – Alistair wondered if not too subtle. The Empress was not quite sure whether or not to buy what was being displayed. She had come here to test the waters with Alistair and determine what matter of pray she needed to seduce. Cailan had been easy. How inconvenient that he died. Cailan was planning to divorce Anora and marry the Empress. Fereldon would then be hers of course, re-shaping Orlais to make it the largest and most powerful nation in all of Thedas. And done without one drop of blood being spilled. The Empress genuinely adored Cailan. He was her charming, handsome little puppy dog. But what of Alistair? That Anora had managed to get into his pants was most interesting to the Empress. Anora was much like Cailan had described. Beautiful, intelligent, but all business. By attaching herself to Alistair it was clear to the Empress that Anora wanted her power back. The information that she had received that Alistair was governing his country effectively and efficiently certainly did not jive with earlier reports that he was an affable enough fellow but one with no experience and apparently not much interest in ruling. Perhaps his success was because Anora was behind it. Perhaps he was like Cailan after all. Regardless, the fact was Orlais's coffers were empty. She needed to find new sources of wealth. Fereldon had always seemed the most likely source, but Orlais did not have the funds to mount another war. The Empress decided she would use whatever she had at her disposal to take Fereldon. Cailan had been most obliging. She would have to act quickly. Though she had not intended to seduce Alistair this night, she decided she would if she was given the opportunity. She needed to get Alistair in her pocket, ideally before he married Anora. A marraige would simply protract the process. Alistair would be marrying her, not Anora. Her confidence in her sexual prowess made it a foregone conclusion in her mind.

Throughout the evening, Anora was seen to discretely rub her head and make small barely visible grimaces. It was therefore no surprise to the Empress when Anora finally excused herself with one of her tortuous headaches. The Empress was even more delighted with the subtle reluctance to leave that Anora was displaying. Clearly she wanted to be in on this conversation.

They entered the library and Alistair poured them each a brandy. The Empress eyed him carefully. He was taller, better built than Cailan. He was handsome like Cailan but there was softness to his features that made him even more appealing. And there was something very sensual about him. This will be rather pleasant she thought.

The hardest part was next. Alistair was to flirt with the beautiful Empress, but Alistair was not much used to flirting. Never mind "subtle" flirting as Anora had instructed. He was going to have to talk to Anora about the use of the word subtle.

"And now we are alone at last." Alistair said. "I am flattered that you came all this way to see me. And I did want to thank you for your unending support to my brother Cailan and to the Grey Wardens."

She moved towards him, her hips swaying rhythmically. She perched herself on the arm of Alistair's chair. Her voice was soft and sultry. Apparently Alistair did not have to worry about trying to be flirtatious. The Empress was doing it for him. "I came here Alistair," she said "to see if Orlais could assist you in any way." She drew closer, looking at him seductively, her breasts brushing against his chest.

Alistair moaned slightly. Encouraged, she began to run her fingers through his hair. "You see, Cailan and I well, we were beginning to forge, relations, shall we say." Her other hand was at his groin, caressing him. Despite trying to control himself, he was getting hard. "Oh my!" She exclaimed. "It seems you are bigger than your brother." She said licking her lips seductively.

Alistair tried not to squirm. He was beginning to feel sick to his stomach. His body was betraying him.

"I did not know that." Was all Alistair could think to say. Anora, who by now was crouched in the small storage rooms, thought her eyes would pop out of her head. She did not know whether to laugh or cry. A flash of doubt crossed her mind, but she dismissed it.

"My lady, I can see that you are a strong and very beautiful woman." Alistair said "What exactly are you proposing? Perhaps an alliance between our nations? I thought we were already allied."

By now somehow one of her breasts had somehow managed to escape her dress. She was caressing herself. Alistair had enough. He stood up and approached her. He gently took her breast in his hand and tucked it safely back into her dress.

"Your Majesty. If for a moment I thought your attempts to seduce me were in the least bit sincere, I would be most flattered. Have you Orlesians ever heard of the word subtle?" Good word Anora – Thank-you, he smiled to himself. He continued. " Sincere or otherwise, you must know that I have the most beautiful woman in the world waiting for me in my bed. I want or need no other woman. I am promised to her. And As a Templar and Grey Warden both, trust me, I take my promises and my vows very seriously." Alistair continued, wondering if Anora would come in to rescue him. He was not sure if he had just started a war.

"Tell me. If Orlais is as desperate as your behavior would suggest, then let us talk openly and honestly about how Fereldon and Orlais can truly help one another. Tell me about your trade partners. Speak to me about your untapped resources. Tell me about your system of taxation and governance. We Fereldons are a hearty people. Surely there are things here that would benefit Orlais, and surely Orlais has much that would benefit us. Let us work together."

The Empress looked stunned, embarrassed, puzzled, and intrigued. She was silent for what seemed to be hours. Anora had not yet made an appearance.

"Then let us talk Alistair" She said gaining her composure.

They talked into the night. Alistair provided her with the right amount of information, asked her the right questions at the right time, poked, prodded, guided, and gently pushed her in the right direction. By the end of theior discussion, the Empress had devised the beginning of a plan for reform that within the next few years, if all went well, could see Orlais flourish once again. As dawn approached, the Empress took her leave, but before she left she turned to Alistair.

"You are quite an amazing man. I am humbled by you. I hope my antics can be forgotten and forgiven by you and Anora who I have no doubt is listening in somewhere. She is a lucky woman. I hope she knows that." The Empress smiled.

"Thank you. Though it is I who is the lucky one." Alistair replied. "About Cailan. He would have made a fine King in the end you know."

"Perhaps" The Empress smiled. "Well, I look forward to your wedding. You will invite me of course."

"Of course, we would not wish to strain our new found friendship. You are an amazing woman." He grinned.

Alistair found his way to the storeroom and saw that Anora had fallen asleep with her ear against the wall. How beautiful she looked, albeit a bit disheveled. He picked her up and carried her to their bed. She stirred and looked up at him sleepily.

"When did you fall asleep? Alistair said

"Just after the steamy bits I think" she said. Then, shaking off her sleepiness, she grabbed his crotch and gave it a playful squeeze. "You are bigger than him you know." She giggled.

"Well your breasts are bigger and nicer than hers" Alistair replied. She grabbed her pillow and hit him and then they made love.


	12. Chapter 12

**Epilogue**

It was a few days before the wedding. Anora stood by the window, watching the preparations taking place below, in her favorite spot in the garden. Alistair had given her so much, sometimes she wondered what she could ever give to him return. Alistair came in and hugged her from behind, following her gaze into the garden. She pulled his arms around her.

"Nervous?" he mused.

"No. Just happy and excited."

"Hmmm, me too." Alistair said.

"Alistair?" She turned around to face him. She touched his check, and her hands trembled. "You know how I have wanted to give you a gift. Something that could express all that you have meant to me. I think I have at last found it." She took his hand to her belly. "I am with child." She whispered.

Alistair stared at her. His eyes brimming with tears and a look filled with such tenderness and love that she would never forget it. He buried his face into her chest tears flowing freely.

"You are my gift Anora and always have been. What you have given me here today, is a miracle. Thank you my love."

~xxx~

Seven months later, Duncan Mac Tir was born. A healthy baby boy. Alistair insisted on staying with Anora through the birth, something unheard of in Fereldon. Wynne's strongly disapproved, but Anora wanted him there and Wynne could not refuse her. Alistair was overcome with joy as was Anora. He doted on Duncan and boasted to any who would listen that he was the most handsome and most intelligent baby in all of Thedas. Cullen and Leliana, who, as Alistair had hoped, found each other, were named Godparents.

"He's peeing on me again."Alistair whined to his wife.

Anora sighed. "Darling, I told you to cover him quickly when you change him. Baby boys do not like the cold" She laughed.

He lay little Duncan in his cradle and joined his wife in bed. They held each other close. After a time Alistair whispered in her ear. "I think it is time we made another."


End file.
